brew their beer, to have a stock of good drink ready by the time the travellers reached the village.
Those who lived in the happy days of post-horses and royal mails can recall their sensations when the mere act of locomotion was enjoyment. It was the well-known saying of Dr Johnson, that there was no greater luxury than to travel in a post-chaise and four; and, he added, "especially at another person's expense." But without this costly indulgence, royal mails and post-coaches rendered travelling – provided the journey was not a very long one – a great pleasure. The box-seat on a well-appointed coach was the best cure for fashionable ailments that any physician could prescribe. Mr Macadam had brought our roads to the highest state of efficiency. The smart coach with the beautiful team, the driver and guard in their scarlet liveries, added, wherever they passed, to the interest of the landscape and to the charm of country life. The arrival of the mail was always the great event of the day in town and village. Even at night, as it rattled over the pavement, the tramp of the horses and the twang of the guard's horn, if it roused the light sleepers from their slumber, the awakening was not unpleasing. Well does Mr Hyde, who has for twenty-five years held important situations in the Post-office, describe in 'The Royal Mail' the pleasure and excitement of the travelling in our youth: –
"The mail-coach days," he says, "had charms and attractions for travellers, if they at the same time had their drawbacks: the bustle and excitement of the start, when the horses were loosed and the driver let them have rein under the eyes of interested and admiring spectators; the exhilarating gallop as a good pace was achieved on the open country-road; the keen relish of the meals, more especially of breakfast, at the neatly kept and hospitable inn; the blithe note of the guard's horn, as a turnpike-gate or the end of a stage was approached; and the hurried changing of horses from time to time as the journey progressed. Ever-varying scene is the characteristic of the occasion: the village with its rustic quiet, and odd characters, who were sure to present themselves as the coach flew by; the fresh and blooming fields; the soft and pastoral downs; the scented hedgerows in May and June; the stretches of road embowered with wood; the farmer's children swinging on a gate or overtopping a fence, and cheering lustily with their small voices as the coach swept along. ...
"Or, on occasions of great national triumph – when, for example, some important victory crowned our arms – the coach, decked out with ribbons or green leaves, would be the bearer of the joyous news down into the country, – the driver and the guard, as the official representatives of the Crown for the moment, being the heroes of the hour."
This graceful and picturesque description shows that the work of the Post-office has not blunted the keenness of Mr Hyde's perceptions or his sense of the poetry of life. But there was something more than poetic interest in the olden days of travel. Moreover, it was something to feel our travelling superiority over all other nations. While the lumbering diligences in France, and the still heavier eilwagens in Germany, were driven by postilions, whose jack-boots were alone a sufficient weight for a horse, at a rate of five miles an hour, the average speed of all our mails – including stoppages – was nine miles an hour. But the fast coaches covered sometimes twelve miles within the hour. The London and Shrewsbury mail accomplished 184 miles in 18 hours, London and Holyhead 268 miles was travelled in 27 hours, London and
